by Oped by Yosef Shidler
Why does Charlie Kirk’s assassination feel so different? Why does it sting more deeply than even the horrific terror attacks we’ve seen in Israel, where six Jews were gunned down just days ago? Why is the whole nation, left and right alike, shaken to the core?
When Jews are murdered in Israel, it is a piercing tragedy. It breaks us, because they are our brothers and sisters. But as Jews in America, we’ve been forced to live with a certain framework: that terror in Israel, as horrific as it is, has become a constant wound. It hurts every time — but it no longer shocks.
But America stands apart. America is the Rome of today — the greatest power in the world, the empire whose direction determines the course of global history. In the past fifteen years, we have watched America pulled into waves of political craziness, corruption, and bitter division, leaving people unsure whether this empire will hold to righteousness or collapse under moral confusion. And here, one man’s voice had become a rallying cry for truth, for justice, for morality. Charlie Kirk wasn’t just a commentator. He was a force — a voice that cut through the chaos, energized a movement of young conservatives and faith-driven Americans who were searching for moral clarity, and gave courage to people who felt silenced.
In Judaism, we speak about the Sheva Mitzvos B’nei Noach — the Seven Noahide Laws, the universal code given by God to all humankind. They are the foundation of civilization: justice, morality, the sanctity of life, rejection of theft and violence, acknowledgment of the Creator. For non-Jews, they represent the baseline of a moral and just society.
Whether he realized it or not, Charlie Kirk was their champion, leading the way in bringing those ideas into the heart of America today.
Campus by campus, town by town, he fought the lies of TikTok, the indoctrination of universities, and the corruption of the media. He raised up a generation to stand for Judeo-Christian values — for family, for life, for moral clarity. His rallies drew crowds in the hundreds and thousands, with an energy that rivaled Trump himself. Few men in our time could draw that kind of following. And it wasn’t because he was selling cheap slogans. It was because he was calling people back to righteousness. And who else had the courage to do that? Who else was willing to step into the heart of the corruption, into the campuses themselves, and battle in the open? He wasn’t just speaking from a distance, like some podcast host in a studio — which he also had — but he went out into the open with one purpose: to educate, to bring righteousness to the world. In that sense, he was a shliach, an emissary of Hashem in this world — he was confronting the culture head‑on, where the lies were being planted.
Yes, he was an evangelical Christian. He would invoke the name of his faith’s figure — which for us as Jews we don’t follow, but for his Christian audience was central. But his values were aligned with Torah values. His work gave voice to the very mission the Jewish people carry: to bring awareness of God into the world, to establish justice and morality as the bedrock of society. In that sense, Charlie Kirk was a righteous gentile — a modern-day Enosh (in Jewish tradition, the grandson of Adam, remembered as the first generation when people began to drift into idolatry; his death is described by commentators as marking a deep spiritual decline), a non-Jew who raised up the cause of godliness in the world.
That is why his death feels so cosmic. Because it isn’t just about him as a person. It’s about what he represented: the voice of morality in a collapsing Rome — just as the Rome of old crumbled when it lost its moral compass and sank into decadence. Rome fell not because of outside armies alone, but because its inner values rotted away. America today faces the same danger.
When someone mows down a man like this, it’s not just murder. It’s a declaration: We don’t want morality. We don’t want justice. We don’t want God in our world. Look at who is celebrating. And remember — this took place on the eve of 9/11, a date etched in history when we saw people in parts of the world celebrating the death and killing of innocents. The same spirit of cruelty is visible again today. And ignoring such celebrations then proved costly — we dare not ignore them now. Look at the enemies of America, the enemies of Israel, the enemies of truth. They’re the ones dancing. Their joy alone tells the story.
Charlie Kirk was also one of Israel’s greatest friends. Perhaps his pro-Israel stance came from evangelical theology, but the fact remains: he was unwaveringly pro-Jew, pro-Israel, pro the survival of our people. But more importantly, he was a voice bringing godliness and righteous values to the non‑Jews of America and beyond. That’s why leaders from Benjamin Netanyahu down to Jewish communities and world leaders across the globe mourned him. He wasn’t just “on our side.” Just as the Jewish people are charged with the job of being a light to the nations, Charlie in many ways took up that role for America. He was like an Enosh in our time. Yet even then, he is remembered as a towering figure whose passing marked a deep turning point. Likewise, Charlie’s voice reminded America of godliness, and his loss feels like such a turning point in our own era.
And so this assassination is more than politics. It is more than tragedy. It is a sadness that touches heaven itself — it strikes at the very purpose of the world’s existence, which is to be a dwelling place for God.
The Jewish mission is to make the world a dwelling place for God — to bring holiness into the lowest realms. When a non-Jew rises up to carry that mission alongside us, and his voice is publicly slaughtered in front of hundreds, the loss is not just to America. Not just to Jews. And so when people say a tragedy in Israel should sting more, the point is not comparison but clarity: the pain here is also immense because it represents a blow against morality itself. It is a loss to humanity.
It is, in truth, a sadness to God.
No comments:
Post a Comment